


The Longest Night

by TheSilverPhoenix



Series: HWS Yuri Week 2020 [7]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Day 7, F/F, Historical Hetalia, Nyotalia, Pining, War, World War II, hwsyuriweek, mentions of injury, sunset
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-09
Updated: 2020-08-09
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:15:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25812664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSilverPhoenix/pseuds/TheSilverPhoenix
Summary: In the midst of WW2, America and England watch the sunset, unsure of what the night will bring.
Relationships: America/England (Hetalia)
Series: HWS Yuri Week 2020 [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1863889
Comments: 1
Kudos: 13





	The Longest Night

America watched as the sun set slowly over a crumbling London skyline. It was a terrifying sight - the destroyed outlines of the old buildings, the large piles of rubble on the sides of the streets, the long lines of the civilian victims, the gaunt, soot covered faces of the Londoners. The Second World War had taken a heavy toll on the Empire and its heartland and, despite how much America had insisted that the old woman meant nothing to her, the sight had secretly shook America to her core.

She’d never seen London so...desolated. She’d never seen England so weak.

Across the ocean, the war had seemed distant. Real, she knew, and troubling, but distant and none of her business. That had been before the Japanese had attacked her sleeping soldiers in Hawaii. Before the war had come to her.

Now, she sat on the roof of one of London’s rooftops, looking out across the wreckage and watching the fading of the sunlight on the horizon. In any normal circumstance, the sight would be breathtaking, but these were not normal circumstances and instead the sight brought dread and filled the air with a nervous anticipation. The Battle of Britain had ended more than two years before, but it’s victory hadn’t guaranteed the end of the London bombings.

America took another drag of her half gone cigarette as the sun finally faded behind the horizon. Above her, the stars in the night sky were coming out in full force, scattered like flickering diamonds in the sky. America scoffed at the romantic thought and watched as the harsh, bright searchlights of London were turned on rather than the warm, welcoming ones of the homes.

“Isn’t it a bit cold to be standing out here?”

America exhaled the last drag of her cigarette, threw the butt on the ground, and snuffed it out with her foot. She turned around to see England looking at her, arms crossed, eyebrows scowling, looking entirely unamused.

If America was being entirely honest with herself, England looked like shit. The other nation had grown thinner through the course of the war. Her eyes were sunken and tired, wounds of varying severity were littered all around her body, and each movement and breath she took seemed to cause her pain. America kept trying to convince herself she didn’t care. She didn’t.

“Can’t stand being stuffed inside all day,” she answered. She went to light another cigarette, only to find the pack empty. Fuck.

Her response earned her a raised eyebrow instead of a scowling one. Progress.

“It isn’t safe up here,” England replied, coming to stand next to her. Neither looked at the other and, instead, both women chose to look out upon London.

“Don’t worry,” America began, about to lead into a haudy quip about the German bombers. She thought better of it and instead just left it at that.

The two fell into an uneasy silence. It was awkward, neither nation knowing what to say as the night grew darker and more prominent. America supposed she could’ve brought up any number of subjects - the safer bet was something trivial, like the weather; the riskier bet was something personal, like any event within the past hundred and fifty years. So much had happened since she’d last spoken to England in civil conversation. So much growth and pain and emotion. But now wasn’t the time for any of that. War now, emotional baggage later.

England gave a deep sigh and the cool, London breeze played with the long strands of her hair. America could hardly see her face in the dim lighting and when had she started looking at England?

_ I don’t care _ , she told herself.  _ I don't _ . 

Despite the low light of the half moon, she could still see the faint scratches along her cheek bone and the deep, jagged scar where her neck and jaw met. She could also see the scattering of freckles across her face and -

_ Concentrate, America, concentrate _ .

America forced herself to look back out at the city, though now there wasn’t much to see. London was now fully covered underneath the blanket of night and there were absolutely no signs of life, save for the patrolling searchlights in the distance.

Even though she was no longer looking at England, America’s thoughts quickly turned to her, as they always seemed to. The other nation looked better than she had when America had first arrived. Which was a testament to how she’d looked beforehand. It was almost as if this weird illusion had been broken, when America had seen her like that. England had always seemed untouchable - even to her, though she loathed to admit it. Even as a colony, America had never seen England show any kind of weakness or sign of wear. So to see her so ragged and injured had been surreal and wrong and...sad.

That’s when she had felt a sharp pang of sympathy. She’d tried to convince herself that was just because England was her ally, and she needed to care about the health of her allies because to not do so could spell disaster for the war effort. It absolutely wasn’t because she had actual feelings for England. They were just allies. Just allies and nothing more. Never anything more.

The thought made America’s heart drop. Before she remembered that she absolutely wasn’t supposed to care about whatever the other woman thought of her. The only reason England was even tolerating her was because she had to, not because of anything more.

“Do you have any cigarettes?” England finally asked, not taking her eyes off of the city in front of them.

“No,” America answered, wishing her answer was also different. “I just smoked my last one.”

Instead of an answer, America got another long, hefty sigh.

“Whatever,” the other eventually responded. She turned on her heel and began to head back inside. “I’m not standing out here and getting pneumonia because you don’t have a cig.”

Before America could spit back a response that would’ve inevitably started a broader, more heated argument, England had disappeared back into the building. Feeling the cold for the first time since England had arrived, America, herself, gave a long sigh, looked out upon a darkened London, and followed England back into the building, wondering exactly when the sun would rise again.

**Author's Note:**

> This was for the final day of hws yuri week, which was sunsets and sunrises! Thank you to absolutely everyone who left a comment, kudos, or like on any of my fics for this week! It was the source of my motivation for me and I really, really enjoyed fulfilling the prompts for this week.
> 
> Find me on [Tumblr](https://silverphoenixwrites.tumblr.com/), [Twitter](https://twitter.com/sil_phoenix), and [Pillowfort](https://www.pillowfort.io/silverphoenix)!


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